


Keep to the Code

by Aondeug



Category: Chronicles of the Kencyrath - P. C. Hodgell
Genre: F/M, Star Wars AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 03:34:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9216779
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aondeug/pseuds/Aondeug
Summary: Once a Mando, now a Jedi, Tori was never very good at the Code. He can't even keep to the first line of it. (Star Wars AU, Jedi Tori, Mando Jame)





	

There is no emotion, only peace.

 

So runs the common phrase in your head. One portion of the Code, memorized as a child, so different from the Actions. This is the crux of it, your hold, what you reach for. It is your bit of stability, that which keeps the Actions back and the Code clear. You cling to this, you must.

 

There is no emotion, only peace.

 

As a child you watched him, your father. Watched him as he talked to them, the people in robes. “So you’ve come to take my son,” he said fiercely, always fierce where you and your sister were concerned. “No, you misunderstand,” the robed one sputtered, Jetii you called them then. “Really? Because it sounds to me like you’ve come to take my son, di’kut,” your father said, and you retreated. His voice had raised. He was angry and you were frightened and so you ran to hide.

 

There is no emotion, only peace.

 

You ran to hide and she found you. She always did no matter how hard you tried. But you were fine with the being found out then because they had come. Men in robes. For you. “They’re not going to take you,” she said, fierce and clear, “I won’t let them.” She was serious, you knew. She always was, but what could she do? Or you? “No you won’t, you’re only eight,” you argued but she just maintained it and you fought again. Like always but you liked it then, the fighting. You often liked it.

 

There is no emotion, only peace.

 

Years passed, two of them, and her body lay prone. The both of you were ten now, always running. Running from b’Hutise Gehut’uune and Jetiise. And fighting, always fighting. Fighting again that night and she’d called you that word. She’d called you a coward, hut’uun. Father would be mad, and so were you. You weren’t one, you knew, but she insisted again and again and then you pushed her. Not with your hands but with what the Jetiise chased you for. And she lay prone, not moving, and so you ran to your father and in the night you ran to the robed ones. You weren’t a coward, but you ran like one.

 

There is no emotion, only peace.

 

They cut your hair and gave you a braid. Master Knorth will be your teacher, they said. He looked down at you, eyes cold. Watching you, testing you. Yelling, he’d always yell. “Keep your back straight, boy!” “You still can’t hold it right, boy!” “Stop being such a coward, boy!” “Why’d they let a Mandalorian mongrel in, boy!” Always, always a critique was coming. Always, always was it warranted. It was you, you knew. Always you and always a coward.

 

There is no emotion, only peace.

 

On a mission you met a Sith, and none of your training helped. No, not at all and she took you, that woman. Bound you up, demanding to know “Where is Master Knorth?” Asking over and over and always you refused over and over. Lightning, droid, mind tricks. All these and you always refused, “I can’t, I can’t,” because you couldn’t. To betray him was not a thing you could do and you stood by that. And she, she stood by the asking and she stood by the pain. And there was pain.

 

There is no emotion, only peace.

 

“I’m surprised you survived, boy,” he’d said, not kindly, “Had you listened this wouldn’t have happened in the first place. Learn to pay attention.” No kind words or questions. Only criticisms, only criticisms. It was your fault, though. It had been. You didn’t tell, but that didn’t matter. What mattered is that you should have listened. You shouldn’t have been there at all. Who were you to question the scars you now bore?

 

There is no emotion, only peace.

 

For the first time in years you saw her, your sister. Strange woman clad in armor which looked so alien now. Alien though once it comforted you, the sight of your father’s armor. She stopped a bolt to your head, but you were simply furious. No, no, no this was wrong. You had made a mistake again and now here she was again ready to fight, ready to hug. You needed to leave, to find him, but you wanted to talk to her and you shouldn’t. “Why are you even here, Tor’ika?” she asked. “You killed him. It doesn’t matter now because you shot him!” you shouted. “Oh.” “Oh? You killed a man who was to have a trial! You aren’t even supposed to be here!”

 

There is no emotion, only peace.

 

“How did he die?” you asked her in that room. Stuck. Lost. Waiting for Brier, her sister, kaysh vod. “It was my fault,” she’d said calmly, but you could feel it. The guilt clouding the Force around her. “He’d tell you not to say that, you know. Tir’buir would be furious,” you said back but she was stubborn like always. “And he’d be wrong. He wasn’t a god, ner vod.” You cried then, right after she said that. For the first time in years you cried and she followed suit. “Dammit, Tori, dammit”.

 

There is no peace, only emotion.

**Author's Note:**

> Translations:
> 
> b'Hutise Gehut'uune - Hutt's scoundrels, crooks  
> Jeti(ise) - Jedi  
> Kaysh - her/his  
> Vod - brother/sister  
> Buir - mother/father  
> 'ika - small, nickname


End file.
